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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29905911">Faut-il qu'il m'en souvienne— la joie venait toujours après la peine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/theglitterati/pseuds/theglitterati'>theglitterati</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bokuaka Fantasy AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bottom Bokuto Koutarou, Forbidden Love, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:13:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,629</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29905911</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/theglitterati/pseuds/theglitterati</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years after Keiji's banishment from the Fukuroudani kingdom, Prince Koutarou is reunited with his lover.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bokuaka Fantasy AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2215458</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>145</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Faut-il qu'il m'en souvienne— la joie venait toujours après la peine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/meeks00/gifts">meeks00</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic is a gift for the lovely Meeks! Sorry for always being so stabby. I'm not going to stop, but I hope this fic makes up for some of it ;)</p><p>The title is from the poem Le Pont Mirabeau by Guillaume Apollinaire. A rough translation is: I must remember that joy always comes after pain.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Koutarou returned to his rooms late in the evening, having been kept at dinner far longer than he cared to stay. His father the King had insisted on trotting him and his sisters out for the lower nobility — perhaps, if they saw the King had three healthy heirs, they’d be dissuaded from challenging the throne. Koutarou forced a smile and spoke only when spoken to. When it came to his royal obligations, he did his duty and nothing more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Konoha, his captain of the guard, held his bedchamber door open for him. “Your coat, sir?” Koutarou let him strip it from his shoulders. He noticed a tray of macarons on the bedside table. “Shirofuku brought those up earlier. They’re delicious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You ate one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One or two.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could have you fired for that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could,” Konoha agreed with a smile, “but I doubt you will. Actually, the next time we speak, I think you will find yourself quite pleased to have me in your service.” He swiped another macaron. “Will that be all for the evening, sir?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Koutarou pouted. “I suppose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very good. Sleep well, my Lord. If you can.” Konoha swept from the room, locking the door behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Koutarou sat to remove his boots, puzzling over Konoha’s words. There seemed to be a double meaning, though what it was, Koutarou didn’t know. Or maybe Konoha was teasing. Koutarou pretended at haughtiness with his guard, but truthfully, he enjoyed their jests. He was the luckiest man in the entire kingdom, but all luck came with a price. Koutarou’s was loneliness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes scanned the chamber: the large bed, made up with more cushions than an army needed; the plush carpets; the heavy, damask curtains. Something in the curtain caught his eye — a sense of movement, though there was no breeze. Koutarou stared, but no more movement came.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was likely nothing more than a trick of the eye. His guard searched the room every night before he returned to it. Surely, if there was something—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The curtain moved again. Koutarou drew the dagger at his waist and crossed the room silently. He preferred jousting on the lists, but he was skilled at hand-to-hand combat as well, had been trained in all disciplines of the sword. He yanked back the curtain, raised his knife, and—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was thrown against the wall, his assailant wresting his dagger away with one hand and covering Koutarou’s mouth with the other. It was only when he could no longer speak that Koutarou thought to call for Konoha. He tried to fight, but the man twisted his wrist into an awkward position that prevented him from moving at all. He met the eyes of his assailant and prepared to bite his way past his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, a gasp fell from his lips. The deep blue eyes staring back at him were not those of a foe, but a friend. “Keiji!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His shout was muffled. “My Lord,” Keiji said, “do I have your word that you’ll be quiet if I release you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Koutarou nodded wildly, though he was not sure it was a promise he could keep. Keiji knew this, too, and waited before withdrawing his hand. When he did, he fell to his knees, bowing deeply. “I am sorry to have had to do that. I did not want the whole castle alerted—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Keiji, get up!” Koutarou drew him to his feet and into a crushing hug. “Gods, it’s really you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s embrace was stiff, as though he had not practiced in some time. “Indeed, Bokuto-san.” Koutarou’s heart stung with nostalgia — only Keiji ever called him that, a silly formality he continually asked him to drop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Koutarou stepped back, taking Keiji by the shoulders. His face had lost some baby fat, and he hadn’t had a haircut in many moons, leaving his hair hanging to his chin, but he was the same Keiji, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Koutarou’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>Keiji, he had always been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A million questions passed through Koutarou’s mind. He settled on, “How did you get here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji smiled, a thin, wan thing. “I believe you’ve had a recent personnel change in your guard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I— there was an incident a few months ago. Someone tried to break into my chambers and the old captain was sacked—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a shame,” Keiji said. “I nearly made it that time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Koutarou blinked. “It was you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was. This is not my first attempt to get close to you, though it is the first successful one. Luckily, Konoha-san remembered me, my… role in your life, and made this time much easier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He helped you get in…” Koutarou understood Konoha’s riddles. “I think I owe him a raise!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can certainly trust him,” Keiji said. “I tested him, to make sure he wasn’t helping me only to lock me up, and he’s your man, through and though.” Koutarou grasped the implication: Konoha belonged to him, not his father. His father, who had sent Keiji away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now he was here, and Koutarou wasn’t sure whether to celebrate or cry. “How long can you stay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Relief crossed Keiji’s face. “You do wish me to stay, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I do. Keiji, you’re my— my oldest friend.” He had been more, once, though Koutarou wasn’t sure what he was allowed to ask for now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I must be secretted out of the castle before sunrise,” Keiji said, “but we’ve many hours yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not nearly enough.” Every second with Keiji was precious. “Come, sit.” Koutarou dragged him to the bed. “Will you tell me what you’ve been doing these past two years?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji sat delicately, removing his boots. Koutarou wondered if he too was thinking of the times they’d shared in this bed, long nights and lazy afternoons where they indulged in nothing but each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been travelling, mostly. There’s plenty of coin to be made for someone with my training.” He and Koutarou had been trained in the yard together, spent their childhood fencing with wooden sticks. “All the while looking out for the interests of Fukuroudani, of course. Were you aware there was a coup against your father being plotted in the Nohebi kingdom last year?” Koutarou shook his head. “Well, there isn’t anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what you’ve been doing? Defending my father, of all people—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Defending </span>
  <em>
    <span>you,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bokuto-san. I’ve no love for your father, but a challenge to him is a challenge to you and your sisters as well. I could not let that happen.” His serious tone caught Koutarou by surprise; he had not imagined the lengths to which Keiji would go to protect him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Other than that, I spent some time in Miyagi, putting down rebels,” Keiji continued. “It’s actually quite beautiful there, by the sea. I think you would have enjoyed it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I would have enjoyed anywhere I went with you by my side,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Koutarou thought. Instead, he said, “Did you meet any beautiful people in these beautiful places?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Several,” Keiji said. “And I did not look twice at any of them.” He flushed, high on his cheeks, and glanced away. “And you? Have you found a pretty maiden to warm your bed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Koutarou laughed. “You’ve a better memory than that, Keiji. I’ve no interest in maidens.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A handsome squire, then—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s none handsomer than you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not a squire anymore,” Keiji said. “Just a sellsword—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then shall I start a war and engage your services? I’d do it, for you.” Koutarou put a hand to Keiji’s face, touched the soft, tanned skin. “I see your confidence hasn’t improved much in the past few years, but believe me when I say this: my heart has only ever been yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji gasped, his lips falling open. Koutarou resisted pushing his thumb between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji, I’m not sure what your expectations for this night were, but—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything you want,” Keiji breathed. “Whatever you’ll give me.” His eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Oh, Koutarou, I’ve missed you so much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Koutarou could wait no longer: he seized Keiji by the shirt and kissed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kiss was biting, intense, a clash of tongues and teeth. Koutarou tried and failed to slow his rapid heartbeat. This was a precipice — the smart choice would be to still his lips, his wandering hands, lest he shake with withdrawal when Keiji was gone. But Koutarou’s tutors would tell you he’d never been smart, and the high of tasting Keiji’s lips was too hard to resist. He kissed him with abandon, grasping at him with shaking hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slipped Keiji’s shirt over his head and pressed him into the mountain of pillows, hovering above him. Keiji’s tan relented under his clothes, but there were other spots of darkness, half-healed bruises and raised, ridged scars. “My love,” Koutarou murmured, tracing one with his fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji shivered under his touch. “Don’t be alarmed. They are surface wounds all.”“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm.” Koutarou’s fingers found his ribs, more prominent than they used to be. “Are you eating enough? It would be difficult to forget the size of your appetite.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve had plenty,” Keiji said. “Although— those macarons—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Koutarou plucked one up and twisted it open, revealing its interior. Blackberry jam, he suspected. He swiped it with his finger and spread it on Keiji’s lips, smearing it across his cheek, and bent to lick it off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji laughed. “If you’re trying to fatten me up, you’re going about it wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Once we’re finished, I’ll feed you every last one,” Koutarou promised. “But I’ve another hunger to sate first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He worked his way down Keiji’s body with his mouth, stopping to swirl his tongue around his nipples, then to divest him of his pants and bring his cock into his mouth. Gods, how Koutarou had ached for this. Since the incident when his father had found him and Keiji in a similar position and banished him, he’d not been allowed to be alone with anyone but women and the members of his guard. He would not have touched — both his heart and body were reserved for Keiji — but even to feel the presence, the smell of another man—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can hear you thinking all the way up here,” Keiji said gently. “Shall I put a stop to it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, Keiji knew him so well. Koutarou had barely mouthed </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes</span>
  </em>
  <span> before Keiji pushed his head down, his nose tickled by the black curls at the base of him. He swallowed Keiji down, his throat as well-trained as the rest of his muscles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was stopped before long and found Keiji panting and sweating. “If you’d like to do more,” he said, “I will need a break.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Koutarou climbed over him, giving him a messy kiss that made Keiji swat at him. “Does </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> include you fucking me so hard I can feel it for weeks?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji gasped in mock surprise. “Naughty words, for a princeling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For you, Keiji, I’d grovel on my knees.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji’s eyes darkened. “Careful, or I’ll hold you to that.” In one swift movement, he tossed Koutarou off him and rolled them over. He stripped Koutarou bare, taking a moment to marvel at the sight of him, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hardness</span>
  </em>
  <span> of him, before digging around in the drawer. The familiar bottle of oil was in the same place it always had been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Half-empty,” Keiji noted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had to pass the time somehow!” Koutarou said. With a frown, he added, “My fingers aren’t as nimble as yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For once, Keiji had no retort ready. In lieu of words, he wet his fingers and slipped two of them into Koutarou’s entrance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His practice paid off; there was no sting, just full, blooming pleasure. Koutarou canted his hips up to allow for better access.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took little time for Keiji to make a royal mess of him. He removed his fingers and lubed up his cock, steadying himself above Koutarou. A strange look passed over his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keiji?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are beautiful, Koutarou,” he said. “Even more beautiful than in my memories.” Koutarou didn’t have time to answer before Keiji thrust inside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both gasped as he sheathed himself, pushing forward until his hips met the meat of Koutarou’s ass. Koutarou held Keiji’s face in his hands, tracing his cheekbones with his thumbs until they had both calmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know what you said earlier,” Keiji said, “but shall I be gentle with you? It’s been some time, for both of us, and I don’t wish to hurt you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You won’t hurt me, my love.” Any pain that blossomed in the coming days would only be a sweet reminder of this night. “Don’t hold back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji heeded his words, fucking him recklessly. He pinned Koutarou’s wrists to the headboard with one hand and wrapped the other around his cock, pumping in time with his deep, even thrusts. A trail of broken sighs escaped Koutarou’s lips; </span>
  <em>
    <span>Keiji </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>my love</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>harder</span>
  </em>
  <span>, until Keiji quieted him with a kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It ended too fast, Koutarou spilling into Keiji’s hand and over his stomach. Keiji pulled out and followed, throwing his head back, his classic face stunning in the candlelight as he cried out. He collapsed onto Koutarou immediately after, the mess they’d made smearing between their stomachs. Koutarou didn’t care to move just yet; he wrapped his arms around Keiji and held him there, a moment frozen in time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They wet a cloth with water from the ewer and bathed, then took each other in hand again and ruined themselves once more. Later, when they could barely keep their eyes open, Keiji snuffed out the candles and nestled into the bed, drawing Koutarou to his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should sleep, darling,” he whispered into his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even as sleep dragged him under, Koutarou protested. “It will be dawn soon. I don’t want to waste a second with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Keiji said. “I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, Keiji,” Koutarou said. “I will love you as long as I live and breathe. Don’t forget that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keiji pressed his face into Koutarou’s hair. “I promise I won’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Koutarou woke to sun shining through the window. He reached out for Keiji, but the bed was cold and empty. Koutarou’s heart throbbed, as though someone had stuck a thorn in it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ignored the feeling as best he could and sat up; it was late, by the angle of the sun, and he’d be expected at court soon. It was then that he noticed the note on the table, tucked under the empty plate of cookies. The stationery was from his desk, but the hand was unmistakably Keiji’s.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>My dearest Koutarou,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I am sorry to have left you without saying goodbye. I would say it was because you looked too peaceful to wake, which you did, but truthfully I was afraid of a tearful goodbye. Better to leave things as we left them last night — I do hope your back isn’t too sore this morning. Please try not to worry for me while I’m gone; not for my safety, or for my heart, which remains in your possession. Do not let the distance between us sow doubt.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I do not know when I will be able to return, but I hope it will be soon. I have some immediate business to attend to, and I shall not trouble your guard to sneak me in regularly, but I will not let another two years pass before I visit you again, if only to sample more flavours of dear Shirofuku-san’s macarons.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I would tell you to burn this letter, but I know you are a sentimental fool who will not listen, so please be sure to keep it well-hidden. Be well, my darling, and know this: I love you as surely as the stars shine in the sky.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yours forever,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Keiji</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Koutarou read it twice, tucked it in his breast pocket, and rose to face the day.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have Twitter now! You can find me here: twitter.com/theglitterati_ or on Tumblr at kyrstin.tumblr.com</p></blockquote></div></div>
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